


Body Double

by spocksevilgodmother



Category: H.I.V.E. Series - Mark Walden
Genre: Banter, Bisexual Wing Fanchu, Bodyswap, Gen, Humor, Menstruation, Non-binary Otto Malpense, Transgender Nigel Darkdoom, songs about economics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksevilgodmother/pseuds/spocksevilgodmother
Summary: In the Siberian tundra, Professor William Pike created a machine that intertwined the lives of a woman and a cat forever—and he's been searching for a cure ever since. Years later, Pike's students run into that same machine after a detention session. When the machine goes rogue once more, Otto, Shelby, Wing, Laura, and Franz must face the possibility that they will face the same fate as Ms. Leon...





	1. In Which Shelby's Carelessness Seals Everyone's Doom

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I've played with the timelines a little to streamline the events in this story. In the books, Ms. Leon gets her body trapped in a cat presumably in the four months preceding the first book. In this work, that happens closer to the events described in Deadlock. Ms. Leon has been stuck for a much longer time. Because DRAMA.
> 
> H.I.V.E. and its characters belong to Mark Walden. I don't own anything! The following fanfic is purely for entertainment purposes.

**Prologue: Many years ago...**

“How is she?” Professor Pike looked up abruptly from his work as Dr. Nero picked his way through loose wires and cardboard boxes. Pike did his best not to flinch as Nero’s ever-present shadow followed him into the room—Raven, the murderous orphan the headmaster had picked up down south and groomed into a professional assistant. Unfortunately, the professor reflected, the profession he and Nero had chosen for themselves was a little more bloody than the general market.

Nero studied Pike with a long stare. “She’s alive. That is, we believe that whatever remains of her soul is surviving in the cat’s body.”

“For now,” Raven muttered darkly. Nero paused to give his young aide a look.

“How soon do you think you can reverse the procedure?” Nero asked.

Pike swallowed. “I’m not sure.” Nero raised an eyebrow—this was an unacceptable answer. “That is, sir, I need some time to go through the schematics of the machine. I never intended to swap consciousness. My goal was physical, not psychic. If it were a transfer between humans I think we would be safe. But as it is, I need further study of the cat’s body and the internal mechanisms to reverse the process without any more damage.”

“And damage enough you’ve done,” Nero replied. “The poor woman was in the prime of her life. I want results,  _ now _ .”

“Sir, the move.” Pike did his best to avoid sounding pleading. He gestured at the boxes, the disarray, and, finally, the machine that had so abruptly sent two lives on different courses.

Nero put a hand to his temple. “If I didn't think we’d need this machine to restore Tabitha to her body, I’d suggest you leave this godforsaken machine to freeze in this wasteland.” Nero banged his hand flat against the silver machine. “Pack it up! Do whatever you must. We’ll finish this business after we're settled on the island. Natalya, come.”

Nero and Raven swept out of the room, leaving Pike to sweep up his mess. He had to worry about the island, and the Overlord do-over, and now… now this.

Despite himself, a single tear fell down Pike’s cheek. What was he? Merely a man, his machines, and his bitterest mistakes. A failure. Pike looked at his muted reflection in the machine’s sides. If he managed to save that woman’s life, and that was a big if, he doubted very much if he would have a position at H.I.V.E. much longer.

 

**Now**

Everyone groaned as they set the heavy box on the floor.

“Oh!” Franz yelped. “My toes!”

Wing and Shelby bent and wearily raised the box just enough to allow Franz to free himself. 

“I’m going to find Block and Tackle and have them rip my arms off for me,” Shelby whispered, just loud enough that Wing could hear. “My biceps are killing me.”

Wing shushed her softly. “Just a few more minutes,” he urged. “He said if we behaved well he would cancel the rest of our detentions.”

“What are we whispering about?” Laura’s Scottish brogue interrupted Shelby’s next sour comment. 

“Something interesting?” Otto said, winking meaningfully at his roommate. 

“No,” Wing said, more sharply than he intended. Shelby took a long drink of water from her water bottle and set it on a shelf behind her.

“What’s no?” Professor Pike wandered into the storage room, surveying the students’ work. “Never mind. This looks good. You all worked hard today—I’ve been meaning to reorganize for ages.”

The students held their breaths hopefully. Professor Pike chuckled to himself. 

“Oh, very well,” he said. “I will consider your other detentions for me fulfilled. Thank you for your hard work.”

“You’re so welcome,” Shelby said, standing up straighter and marching to the door. “Permission to go have lunch?”

“Granted, soldier,” Pike replied. 

Franz heaved a sigh. “At last! I am needing to regain my strength from all that I have lost during this detention.”

Otto smirked. “I don’t think that’s how strength works, Silent Death.”

Wing herded the two other boys out of the storage room, leaving only Laura to glance back at the professor as she left.

“Everything all right, sir?” she asked, studying his troubled face.

“Hm? Fine.” Pike came back to himself. “Fine, thank you. I just realized… some of these boxes haven’t been unpacked since we first moved to the island. Time… it gets away from us.”

“Yes, sir.” Laura looked a little perplexed, and Pike smiled.

“Go catch up with your friends,” he said. “You’ll have time to reminisce when you’re my age.”

Laura turned and ran to catch up with her friends, who were by now onto the next topic.

“I just don’t see why we have to make everything so small,” Wing said. “What happened to buttons that you could actually put a finger on?”

“I think that’s a  _ you _ problem, big guy,” Shelby laughed. 

“Aw, is he rallying for the plight of the tall and strong again?”

Wing sniffed. “Said by someone who is neither.”

“You wanna _GO_ , WIng?” Shelby swiveled, playfully popping a fist and hitting Wing’s chest. “Too chicken to fight?”

Wing remained impassive. “If I had thought you were capable of inflicting damage, I would consider it.”

Shelby stopped in her tracks, and both Wing and Otto barrelled straight into her, knocking all three flat on the floor.

“My water bottle!” Shelby exclaimed. “I left it on the shelf in the storage room.”

“H.I.V.E.mind can issue you a new one in the dining hall,” Franz offered.

“No, it had my Raspberry Damage band sticker on it!” Shelby sighed. “I had to pay big to get that kind of contraband.” She looked at Otto. “Be a pal and open the door for me? Please?”

“Sure,” Otto groaned, getting back on his feet. “Let’s go.”

“I might come, too,” Laura said. “There were a couple things in there that I wouldn’t mind taking a look at without Pike over my shoulder.”

Wing silently followed, as did Franz.

“You okay?” Wing asked. “The dining hall is open.”

“I know,” Franz said. “But Nigel’s class doesn’t get out for another half hour and I’d rather eat with my friends than alone.”

Wing accepted this information without comment, unlike Shelby as she waited for Otto to open the door.

“You’re kind of a slowpoke for someone with superpowers,” she said.

“You’re kind of mean for someone who claims to be a human being,” Otto shot back.

Shelby flicked her blonde ponytail in Otto’s face as the door opened and she swung in, greeting her water bottle more warmly than she often did her friends. 

“Hello, my love!” she said, taking the bottle in her hands. “I missed you.”

“Puh-leez.” Laura rolled her eyes. She shot to the shelves, reading labels and flitting to the next box before she had fully processed the words.

“Find anything interesting, Brand?” Otto asked, leaning against the door frame. Laura looked at him through the corner of her eye, distracted, for a moment, by the thought that his smile might be for just her. 

“Not really,” Laura said. “Wing, look out!”

Later, when they tried to explain to Dr. Nero what exactly had happened, Wing would downplay Shelby’s role in the story, and suggest that he had merely been clumsy—unusual for the graceful martial artist, but not unheard of.

As it happened, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, per se. Franz shifted a box so he’d have some place to sit. Shelby’s mental map of the floor didn’t account for this box, so she tripped when she decided to drink and walk, sending Wing crashing into a bookshelf. Had Otto not run forward to help, he might have escaped. Had Laura not used the wireless signal on her blackbox to contact H.I.V.E.mind, it might not have happened at all. 

“I’m so sorry!” Shelby jumped up. With Otto, she hoisted Wing back to his feet. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m okay,” Wing assured her. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

From Laura’s blackbox, H.I.V.E.mind’s calm voice said, “Will you need medical attention?”

“I don’t think so. Thanks, though.”

“Ratting us out already?” Otto asked, although he wasn’t really mad. “Guess we’ll get those detentions right back.”

“Um, guys?” Franz’s voice held a funny pitch. “Do you hear that?”

Everyone fell silent, all at once catching wind of the whine of machinery and the clanking of something old coming back to life.

“Where is it coming from?” Laura asked. 

“Maybe there?” Shelby said, glancing at a dusty silver machine in the corner. “Otto, do you sense anything?”

“I think we woke it up in the commotion,” Otto said, his eyes closed. “I can’t tell what it’s supposed to do." He was silent a moment longer. "Wait—”

_ ZAP! _

Ten arcs of electricity shot from the machine—each one of the students screamed as they hit their bodies. Each one, too, fell silent as they hit the floor and succumbed to unconsciousness. 


	2. In Which Our Heroes Try to Make the Best of a Bad Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fortunately, everyone has survived the machine that once turned Ms. Leon into a cat. That said, new introductions are necessary, because no one is quite where they belong anymore...

As she regained feeling in her limbs, Laura grew aware that the world was louder than she remembered. It was more than the tinnitus she was used to after an explosion—it was like her ear was pressed against someone’s chest, and with every beat a tide of sensation spilled into her own body as well. Laura pulled her hands up—they felt heavy on her body, wasn’t that odd—and pressed her hands against her ears. It did absolutely nothing to silence the noise. 

“Good Lord,” she murmured, and started.  _ That _ was not  _ her _ voice. She forced her eyes open and sat up, and almost immediately flopped back down again. Something soft and light landed at her feet.

“Take your time,” Ms. Leon’s soft, computerized voice soothed. “The nausea will pass after a few minutes.”

Laura peeked at Ms. Leon through her fingers. Everything about the cat was perfectly ordinary: groomed white fur, jeweled collar, serious expression. This time, though, Laura was profoundly aware of the collar around Ms. Leon’s neck. She could sense its presence as immediately and physically as she could sense the difference between standing up or laying down. And with that thought in her head, she knew exactly where she was.

“Is Otto okay?” she asked, her voice croaky and deep. 

“Everyone is breathing,” Ms. Leon replied. “We just aren’t sure who everyone is yet.” She cocked her head slightly. “Speaking of which—who are you?”

“Laura.” Laura stopped to take in the body she inhabited: Otto’s. There were times when she had wondered what it would be like to be close to him—but never this close. His fingers were longer than hers were, and knobbier at the knuckles. She touched his knees tentatively, then his chest, then his face. Familiar, yet foreign. Under her domain, and yet distinctly  _ not hers _ . 

“You may feel disoriented for some time,” Ms. Leon said. “Don’t push yourself.”

Laura found that, after a few minutes, she could tune out the electronic noise around her and get a sense of her bearings. They were in the hospital ward, all five of them. To her left, she saw Wing, Shelby, and—most disturbingly—her own body, still unconscious. 

“Weird, isn’t it?” Laura started at the sound of Franz’s voice. It was less because of the proximity—although Franz’s body was, indeed, practically on top of her—and more because Franz’s German accent had been shed for the hard R’s and long vowels of Shelby’s American drawl.

Laura patted the empty space on the bed next to her. “How are you taking it?”

“Would I prefer not to be in Franz’s body? Yes,” Shelby said. “But now I know that you’re in Otto’s, which means two of the boys are in ours. And am I excited to see how they react to being stuck in us? Yes, yes I am.”

Laura grinned despite herself. Shelby managed to find the humor in any situation, and she was glad that she had that to hold onto as she got used to the feel of sitting in Otto’s skin.

“You know what’s weird?” Laura said. “I miss my bra. I feel naked without it, even though I have nothing to put in it.”

“I do not feel that way at all,” Shelby replied. “However I did notice right away that I needed to pee, so when that’s you, I have a few pointers.”

“Shel,” Laura rolled her eyes. 

“I mean it! It’s different. You have to pay attention or you’ll start to pee on the floor.”

“Ew!” Laura and Shelby both burst into giggles and Laura whacked her friend with her pillow as Dr. Nero and Professor Pike walked in the room.

“I’m amazed to see that you’re finding the humor in all this,” Nero said, not exactly coldly, but neither was he laughing. 

“Sorry, sir,” Laura said, sounding a little guilty.

Nero shook his head ruefully. “I guess  _ that _ means you’re not Otto anymore. To whom am I speaking?”

“Brand.”

“Trinity.”

“And perhaps,” Nero said. “You can enlighten us on how exactly you got this way.”

“I forgot my water bottle,” Shelby said. “And then we tripped and this happened.”

“You tripped, huh?” Professor Pike looked suspicious.

“Otto was trying to figure out how to turn off the machine when it happened,” Laura said. You might have better luck with the specifics if you ask him.”

Nero nodded, and he and Pike went to speak to the doctors. Physically, everyone was fine. By every other metric, “fine” was just a relative term. 

“They’re waking up!” Shelby exclaimed, noting that the other three students began to shift in their beds. Laura folded her legs and rested her chin in her hand. It struck her that it was a position she’d never seen Otto in, but one she chose all the time. It felt uncomfortable in his body—his back muscles pulled in the wrong places and his knuckles felt cramped. She elected to ignore the discomfort, for now.

“Helloooo,” Shelby said. “Join us in the land of the living.”

“Who do you think you got?” Laura asked. 

“Maybe Otto’s in you and Franz is in me and Wing is fine,” Shelby thought.

“What’s wrong with Wing?” In the middle bed, one of the boys sat straight up. “Oh, god. What’s wrong with me?”

Both of the girls tried to keep a straight face as Shelby’s wide blue eyes met their faces with concern, but in seconds they lapsed into giggles once more. It didn’t help that Shelby’s throaty, hard-edged voice had adopted the soft disposition of a British native.

“Sorry, Otto,” Shelby said. “We’re not laughing at you. It was just excellent delivery.”

Otto set his eyes on Laura and froze, the full reality setting in. “Oh.” He thought for a moment. “Like Ms. Leon?”

“Aye,” Laura sighed. “We’re going to have to get used to alternative accommodations for the moment.”

After a few more minutes the others woke, too, and they found that Wing was the new occupant of Laura’s body and Franz was enjoying the use of Wing’s. With each awakening came all the introductions and confusions again. 

At last, Dr. Nero approached them and asked for the story once more. Between the five of them, they were able to parse out the disaster. The tripping hazard, the shifting materials, the blackbox signal.

“It was never designed to work remotely,” Pike said. “But it was likely sensitive to the new electronic activity.”

“Oops,” Laura said, embarrassed.

Dr. Nero looked at Professor Pike with some sadness. “What are your thoughts on a reversal?”

Pike looked nervously at Ms. Leon, who glowered at him quietly from Laura’s hospital bed. “Well, it will take some time, but I know that machine inside and out. If possible, I’d like forty-eight hours to make last adjustments.”

Ms. Leon made a hissing noise. “Forty-eight hours,” she said, her voice cruel, and without a backward glance jumped down from the bed and walked out of the room.

Professor Pike closed his eyes for a moment, but then looked back at Dr. Nero. “Two days,” he repeated. “I’m certain.”

“Very well,” Dr. Nero said. “There’s no time to waste. And not just for them,” he said meaningfully.

“I understand,” Professor Pike said. “If you start experiencing any untoward symptoms, please report them immediately,” he said to the students. He, too, left.

“So, that leaves me the problem of you five,” Dr. Nero said, scratching his chin.

“Considering that we are being trapped in the bodies of our peers, I propose that we are being excused from class,” Franz volunteered, his lips upturned in an uncharacteristic smile for his more serious vessel. 

“Oh no,” Nero shook his head. “You may all be in an altered state, but you remain my most conniving students, and the last thing you need is free time. No, the question is whether we should announce your… accident… to the students and staff, or let the situation resolve itself on its own.”

“You should probably announce it,” Shelby said. “There’s no way that Otto can do me convincingly.”

Otto ran a hand through Shelby's long, blonde hair. “Oh my  _ god! _ I can’t believe that boy made fun of me! Do you wanna  _ go _ ?”

Shelby rolled her eyes, but the others laughed.

“I bet you a month of desserts that I can pull it off better than you,” Shelby said. 

“Oh yeah?” Otto shot back, turning Shelby’s own bite back at her.

“Is this going to be a boys versus girls thing?” Franz said. “Because I would rather be on Otto’s team.”

“You would?” Laura batted her eyes in Franz’s direction.

“You know what I meant,” Franz grumped.

“I vote every person for themself,” Shelby said. “And whoever attracts the least attention gets dining hall seniority.”

“On one condition,” Wing said, and Laura was startled by the gravity her friend brought to her own voice. She wondered if anyone else had ever listened to her the way she felt compelled to listen to Wing now.

“We have to tell Nigel what’s going on,” Wing continued. “It’s not fair to him if all of us are in this situation and he’s in the dark.”

Nero nodded. “I’ve alerted Mr. Darkdoom that the five of you are in hospital. I will leave it to you all to share with him the facts. But remember, over the next two days I expect you each to show up to class and to  _ do your own work with your own name _ . That means you, Otto. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the students chorused. 

Nero looked as though he might leave for a moment, then paused and took a moment to look each of his students in the eyes. 

“I appreciate that you’ve been keeping positive attitudes in the aftermath of the accident. Nonetheless, this is a disturbing and scary experience. Even if you feel fine right now, I’d encourage you to stop by Dr. Graden’s office over the next two days, if not after.”

“But it’s not required?” Laura interjected, then felt foolish for doing so.

Nero raised an eyebrow. “No, but Dr. Graden has been an invaluable resource for Ms. Leon over the years. I only ask you to remember that the resources at H.I.V.E. are here for you, too.”

Everyone sat in silence for a moment after Dr. Nero left, processing their headmaster’s words before returning to the opportunities at hand.

“So, Shel,” Otto said, dazzling his friend with her own smile. “I notice that you haven’t adopted a German accent yet.”

Shelby glared at him, noting that Otto himself had adopted a flawless American cadence. 

“You think you’re so smaht,” she retorted, trying to soften her R and failing miserably. “Smart. Smaht. Smart.” She hesitated a moment, trying to remember where Franz was, before meeting his gaze. “Any advice?”

“Most of the time I try  _ not _ to have an accent,” Franz said apologetically. “I don’t know how to make it happen.” His own German roots shimmered beneath Wing’s voice—uncharacteristic, but mellifluous in its own right.

“At least you don’t have to worry about sounding Scottish,” Wing sighed, sounding not Scottish at all.

“Ach, lang may yer lum reek,” Laura replied, laying on her accent as thick as possible. She smirked at Otto. “That one’s up to high doh.”

“Poor baby,” Otto said, adopting one of Shelby’s phrases perfectly.

Everyone laughed, but Laura was surprised to see the despondence reflected back on her own face—she wondered, briefly, if quiet Wing wasn’t taking this change as well as they supposed.

“Anyway, we missed lunch and it’s nearly dinner,” Franz announced, standing to Wing’s full height. “Perhaps we ought to be getting moving. Plus, they’re serving ice cream tonight!”

“Franz, I’m allergic to milk,” Wing sighed.

Franz moaned. “You mean I can’t have even a little scoop?”

Otto smirked. “Not if you want to speak to Laura ever again.”

“What?” Laura asked.

“You two are going to have to sleep in our room tonight,” Otto replied mischievously. “And I know from experience what milk does to Wing’s digestive tract.”

Franz moaned. “Why did this happen to me?”

“Don’t worry, Silent Death,” Shelby said. “I’ll eat some for you.”

“Um.” 

The students jumped at the voice in the doorway, and they turned to find Nigel standing in the doorway, horror and confusion contorting his face. 

“Nigel!” Franz said exuberantly. Nigel, seeing only Wing—and a Wing more enthusiastic than he was accustomed to—narrowed his brows further.

“Are you guys... okay?” he asked. “When Dr. Nero said you were in the hospital, I assumed there would be more…”

“Blood, tears, carnage?” Shelby said. 

“The good news is that we’re all alive,” Otto said calmly. “The bad news is that we’re in the wrong bodies.”

This did not clear things up for Nigel.

“I think I’m missing something,” he said delicately. “What exactly happened during detention?”

“Can we talk about this over dinner?” Franz asked. “I am growing weak.”

“Hang on, tiger,” Laura said. As simply as she could, she explained, “We had a mishap with the same machine that turned Ms. Leon into a cat. We got hit with bolts of electricity, and when we woke up… well. I’m Laura, if that clarifies things. They’ll be able to fix it, but we’re stuck. I’m sure that’s hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s not hard to believe that this is not Wing anymore,” Nigel said, surveying Franz up and down. “This is surreal.”

“Yes, but it will still be surreal in the dining hall,” Franz said. “Can we go?”

“Very well,” Wing sighed, standing. “But you still cannot give me any ice cream.”

Nigel watched, wide-eyed, as his jumbled friends made their way out into the hall. He fell in step with Laura as they walked. 

“Does this mean I have to share a room with whoever’s in Franz tonight?” he whispered.

“Yes it does!” Shelby shouted back gleefully.

“Sorry, bud,” Laura said, patting Nigel on the back. “At least she isn’t lactose intolerant.”


	3. In Which an Hour Passes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Nero requests that H.I.V.E.mind write a report detailing the behavior of those students who suffered an impromptu consciousness transfer earlier in the day. This H.I.V.E.mind faithfully does. In addition to the report he prepares for Dr. Nero, H.I.V.E.mind adds some of his private reflections he uses to try to make sense of the ordeal.

_Observational Recording initiated, 201X0423, 19.56._

**_Report Authorization:_ ** _Nero, Maximilian XXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

**_Subjects:_ **

_Student Argentblum, Franz H. [099458]_

_Student Brand, Laura K. [099462]_

_Student Fanchu, Wing [099468]_

_Student Malpense, Otto [099476]_

_Student Trinity, Shelby A. [099482]_

**_Task Analysis:_ **

_Subjects activated consciousness transfer initiative (_ see: _Project Softpaw, W.T. Pike, 199X) at 15.07. Consciousness transfer results:_

_Argentblum, F. presents as Fanchu, W. [good health]_

_Brand, L. presents as Malpense, O. [good health]_

_Fanchu, W. presents as Brand, L. [physical health good; mental health under observation]_

_Malpense, O. presents as Trinity, S. [good health]_

_Trinity, S. presents as Argentblum, A. [good health]_

_Observation will (1) record students’ behavior to assist in upcoming psychic intervention, (2) collect data on the effects of intrahuman consciousness transfer, (3) assist Graden, C. in mental health analysis._

_[_ ** _Personal Note, REDACTED:_ ** _In addition to assisting Drs. Nero and Graden in their care of the subjects, it is important to me that I keep an eye on the students, especially my friends Otto and Laura, to ensure nothing untoward jeopardizes their safety. I am worried about them.]_

**_19.57_ **

_Attain permission to record from students Argentblum, Brand, Fanchu, Malpense, and Trinity._

_Trinity agrees on the condition that nothing “totally, like, embarrassing” is reported._

_Student Darkdoom, Nigel [099466] consents to recording, due to proximity among report subjects._

**_20.01_ **

_Subjects determine to check out a game from the library. After some debate, subjects decide upon Cluedo._

_[_ ** _Personal note, REDACTED:_ ** _Otto and Shelby argue on the walk to the library whether its proper name is “Clue” or “Cluedo.” Otto argues that the game’s English origin merits the original name; Shelby’s following sharp words do not make a compelling argument in favor of the Americanization. Embarrassment quotient unclear, therefore omitted.]_

**_20.04_ **

_Subjects successfully obtain Cluedo and adjourn to the library's northwest corner for gameplay. Subject Malpense shuffles the deck. Subject Brand arranges the board._

_Student Laurent, J. [088563] approaches to speak to the subjects._

_-Begin Transcript-_

_Laurent:_ Looks like fun! I always play as Mr. Mustard. He looks like my grand-père.

 _Brand:_ I always loved playing as Mrs. Peacock when I was a g—kid. When I was a kid. Because I liked that she matched my eyes.

 _Malpense:_ I’ve always appreciated how color-coordinated you are, Otto.

 _Brand:_ Thanks, Shel.

 _Trinity:_ I, too, will be playing as Mr. Mustard, given how strong and German he looks.

[ ** _Personal note, REDACTED:_ ** _Shelby’s German accent has not improved._ ]

 _Argentblum:_ And I shall be the Reverend Green, for his religious indoctrination reminds me of the uptight and violent philosophies of my father.

[ _7.89 seconds pass silently._ ]

 _Laurent:_ Well, I hope you guys have fun! I have to study for my nuclear weapons quiz.

 _Brand, Trinity, Darkdoom:_ Bye!

 _Brand:_ Franz, you have to apologize to Wing. I can’t believe you said that!

 _Argentblum:_ I am getting into character.

 _Trinity:_ Think about Wing’s feelings. God!

 _Argentblum:_ Sorry Wing.

 _Fanchu:_ Apology accepted.

_-End Transcript-_

**_20.11_ **

_Subjects begin gameplay. Argentblum plays as Rev. Green, Brand plays as Mrs. White, Nigel plays as Professor Plum, Fanchu plays as Mrs. Peacock, Malpense plays as Ms. Scarlet, and Trinity as Mr. Mustard._

_Subject Malpense enters the kitchen and accuses Mrs. Peacock of killing Mr. Black in the billiard room with the dagger._

_Student Darkdoom verifies that this is true._

_Board is reset for gameplay. Subject Malpense is forbidden from shuffling—or counting—cards. The task is handed off to subject Fanchu instead._

_[_ ** _Personal note, REDACTED:_ ** _I don’t know what they were expecting.]_

**_20.20_ **

_Gameplay in progress._

**_20.26_ **

_Gameplay in progress._

_-Begin Transcript-_

_Darkdoom:_ I think it’s Professor Plum in the conservatory with the candlestick.

[ _Subject Trinity shares a card._ ]

 _Trinity:_ I wouldn’t kill someone with a candlestick.

 _Brand:_ No?

 _Trinity:_ Too bashy. I’ll leave that to Wing.

[ _Subject Trinity nudges subject Argentblum, forgetting about the consciousness transfer. Realizes, but presses on._ ]

 _Trinity:_ I’ve always been fond of a good poison.

 _Malpense:_ Figures. Poison is girly.

 _Trinity:_ Do tell, Shelby, dear.

[ _3.65 seconds pass silently ._ ]

 _Argentblum:_ It is true that the men are being the stronger sex of the species.

 _Trinity:_ What?

 _Argentblum:_ Oh yes, my father is saying so all the time. The men take the initiative in all things, being firm and honest in all things.

 _Malpense:_ Franz, I think—

 _Trinity:_ How cool. It’s so gratifying to be a man and remember that I’m superior to women in every way.

 _Argentblum, with less confidence:_ Wait, I didn’t mean that.

 _Brand:_ I think it was Professor Plum in the dining room with the lead pipe.

 _Trinity:_ What _did_ you mean, _Wing_? 

 _Argentblum:_ It’s just… my father has always told me that I should strive to be a real man.

 _Trinity:_ Thank goodness you still are. Imagine what he’d say if you’d ended up one body over. 

 _Darkdoom:_ Guys, let’s not do this right now. Please?

 _Trinity:_ Oh. God, I’m sorry.

 _Argentblum:_ Sorry, Nigel. We weren’t thinking.

 _Malpense:_ I think it was Professor Plum in the library with the lead pipe.

_-End Transcript-_

_[_ **_20.32_**

 ** _Personal Note, REDACTED:_ ** _As the subjects played their game, this conversation took place in another part of the school. Names removed for anonymity. Because I did not get their permission. But I felt it was relevant to my understanding and assistance in the conversation. Therefore, I am not disobeying my programming._

_-Begin Transcript-_

How are you holding up?

Fine. It isn’t me who was hurt by today’s accident.

No, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t affect you. 

Is Nero sending you to babysit me? Is he worried I’ll act out like a petulant child?

He didn’t send me. 

But he knows you’re here?

He knows that I wanted to check on you at some point. We both know it can’t be easy watching all of this unfold. 

No, I suppose it isn’t.

[ _15.44 seconds pass silently._ ]

In a twisted way, I envy them.

Oh?

I’ve told you before—this body has its uses. Night vision. Balance and agility. Claws. I try to focus on that. Yet when I think back to when it first happened… I don’t wonder if I would have coped better in the long term if I were a human.

Really? All I can think is how lost those kids must feel. My body _is_ me.

I know. But emotionally…

Yes?

Do you remember any of what I was like when it happened?

A little. I think Nero was eager to keep me away from everything. He didn’t fully trust me yet, then.

I imagine not. What he kept from you were reams of ripped bedsheets and puddles of wasted food. I think there was a full month where I ruined anything that was set before me.

It’s understandable that you were angry.

That’s just it, though. I wasn’t. Not at first, anyway. I was terribly, terribly scared and sad. And at a time when I most needed to grieve for what I had lost, it seemed like my only avenue was to express myself through destruction and anger. If they all cry themselves to sleep tonight, that will be one night more than I’ve ever had the opportunity.

I’m sorry.

Can you imagine it, [ _Redacted_ ]? Laying in bed, night after night, with sadness anchored behind your face, pressing against your nose, with no way to relieve it?

Not like that, no.

You had your own traumatic youth, I know. But you’ve grown up. You’ve moved on. And despite what Dr. Graden says… until I am returned to my own body, I suspect I never will.

How old were you when it happened?

Older than you were then. Younger than you are now.

Hm. 

Anyway. No sense moping about it now. Tell me about your mission in Belize. I’d rather hear about that.

I hope you haven’t eaten recently.

_-End Transcript-_

_Is this what it is to feel pity?_ ]

**20.39**

_Subjects become distracted by their game as a fight breaks out on the other side of the library, involving Student Block, G. [066855], Student Tackle, S. [066878], and Student Botha, E. [088501] (_ see: _report 4531113, Col. T. Francisco, 201X)._

_Subjects express little sympathy for the other students._

_Subject Fanchu notes that the fight was clumsy and foolish. Subject Brand points that all altercations involving Students Block and Tackle are clumsy and foolish._

_[_ ** _Personal Note, REDACTED:_ ** _I am inclined to agree.]_

**_20.45_ **

_Subject Brand is the victor of Cluedo: Ms. Scarlet, dining room, wrench._

_[ **Personal Note, REDACTED:** Were Nigel paying a little more attention, he could have won two rounds ago.] _

_Subject Malpense suggests that because his mind and body have both won separately, he is the true victor of the evening._

_Subject Trinity whacks Subject Malpense with a magazine, and says, “Don’t make me bruise my face, loser.”_

**_20.51_ **

_Subjects put away game and return it._

_-Begin Transcript-_

_Argentblum:_ What should we do now?

 _Darkdoom:_ You could always approach our classmates and find out what they really think of you.

 _Fanchu:_ No.

 _Darkdoom:_ No?

 _Fanchu:_ I am very tired after all that has happened today. I think I will go to bed now.

 _Malpense:_ I’ll go with you.

 _Brand:_ My bed is the one on the right.

 _Fanchu:_ Thank you for a good game. Good night.

 _Trinity, Brand:_ Good night!

 _Brand:_ Now that he mentions it, I’m kind of tired myself. I think I’ll go to bed, too.

 _Trinity:_ I’m going to miss you.

 _Brand:_ Three whole flights of stairs. I don’t know how we’ll survive.

 _Trinity:_ Oh, you won’t. Before the night’s out, your heart will give out because you miss me so much.

 _Brand:_ Fat chance. I wash my hands clean of you! Good night!

 _Darkdoom:_ Sorry, Franz. If no one else is doing anything, then I need to catch up on my homework.

 _Argentblum:_ Verdammt. 

 _Trinity:_ Shh, someone will hear you.

 _Argentblum:_ Oh well. Good night. 

 _Darkdoom:_ Come on, I’ll walk you to our room.

 _Trinity:_ Hoo boy.

_-End Transcript-_

**_20.57_ **

_Subject Malpense schedules an appointment with Graden, C. for 201X0424 16.30._

_[_ ** _Personal Note, REDACTED:_ ** _I’m relieved for him. I only regret that our usual methods of communication are impeded.]_

**_21.00_ **

_All subjects secure themselves in their habitation units for the night. Subjects are alerted that the recording session is over._

_Subject Trinity requests a copy of the transcript to analyze her comments for unflattering content. Request forwarded to Nero, Maximilian._

_Subject Trinity notes that this request “defeats the point.”_

 

_Data processing._

_Observational recording sent and closed, 201X0423, 21.03._


	4. In Which the Angst Hits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before bed, three sets of roommates struggle with the reality of their consciousness transfers.

Otto had no illusions about completing Shelby’s evening skin routine. 

In theory, it wasn’t difficult. Laura and Shelby kept their belongings meticulously separate—despite the disorder of their bedroom—and so Otto could easily discern which hairbrush, toothbrush, razor, and soap were designated for this body. Shelby had only one face scrub. The sink awaited. 

He couldn’t do it. 

It was silly. He was being silly. It was just a face. It was just face cream. It was just water. The mechanics were simple—he’d read books on hygiene before he could turn on the tap without a stepstool!

But the utter Shelby-ness of Shelby’s face stilled him. The rest of it he could handle. Wearing Shelby was like slipping into a nice suit before a funeral—unavoidably grim, but a comfortable and stylish look appropriate for a special occasion. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the words to describe it to his friends, but his only uneasiness sprouted from his disconnection with the electronic world around him, and nothing else.

Shelby’s face reminded him that he was borrowing. She was his friend. Sometimes, she was his enemy. He’d never admit it to her outright, but Shelby was one of the few people in his life who had a wit sharp enough to spar with his own. It was often her facial cues and tongue clucks that sparked his own sarcasm. To now wield the tools of her trade felt, well, _criminal_. 

It felt like reading your sister’s diary, he decided. It was interesting, and he’d enjoy it, if not for the harm it did to its owner.

Otto splashed water onto Shelby’s face and most of her uniform as well, and decided that would have to do. 

It didn’t seem right to gawk. Looking down as little as possible, Otto peed, changed into Shelby’s pajamas, and finally brushed her teeth. All done.

He left the bathroom and lay down on Shelby’s bed. Wing sat exactly where Otto had left him, cross-legged in the middle of Laura’s bed. Privately, Otto felt he was a little painful to watch. Wing looked inflexible in Laura’s body, like a cheap plastic doll without any joints. 

Otto flipped open his blackbox. “Hey, H.I.V.E.mind.”

“How can I help you, Otto?” H.I.V.E.mind replied.

“Oh. Um. Just checking that you’re here.”

“As I ever am, Otto,” H.I.V.E.mind said. “Is everything all right?”

Otto forced a smile. “Sure. Yes. It’s just been a long time since I haven’t been able to sense… things.”

“I’m sorry, Otto.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Otto shut his blackbox abruptly, trying to summon the anguish he once felt when his strange powers seemed so out-of-control. It didn’t matter. Otto felt disoriented without his unique abilities—a dizziness in his mind, rather than his inner ear.

Otto pulled back Shelby’s messy blankets and slid in. Wing, in the other bed, stretched out on top of the sheets.

“You aren’t going to change?” Otto asked.

He was surprised to see irritation in Wing’s face. “I am surprised you did.”

“Um, why?” Otto asked. “It’s nighttime. I’m not going to wear a starched collar to sleep.”

“I see,” Wing said. Otto sighed. So it was going to be like this.

“Are you going to talk about it?”

Wing contemplated. It was strange, _unheimlich_ , as Freud might say, to recognize the idiosyncrasies of Wing Fanchu in Laura’s face. But, as in his own body, Wing couldn’t be rushed.

“I dislike this, Otto.”

“Oh, is _that_ all?”

“Don’t tease. Of all the things we have been through together, this is the worst.”

Otto softened. “I’m afraid, too, but we can get through this. I promise.”

Wing turned red eyes on his companion. “It’s not enough. This,” he gestured to Laura’s body, “is wrong. It isn’t natural to split a soul from its body.”

Otto very much doubted in the existence of souls, but he decided this was an inappropriate time to have that conversation. Silencing his inner smart-ass, he attempted to console.

“Professor Pike has got this,” he said, his voice reasoned and measured. “Your body and soul will be back together before you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Wing shouted, drawing smacks of pink in Laura’s cheeks that rarely appeared in his own. “I am a terrorist in Laura’s body, Otto! The things I see, the things I touch, the things I do… It’s unconscionable.”

“Maybe so,” Otto conceded. “But we’re all in this together. It was an accident. Calling yourself a terrorist is a bit… theatrical.”

“You only say that because you lack a strong moral compass,” Wing said testily.

Otto rolled his eyes. "You know me, I always get terrorism and doing the right thing confused."

"Don't make fun of things you don't understand," Wing said. "Your family abandoned you and your orphanage failed to discipline you. Your very nature rejects things like order and goodness."

Otto almost winced at the sting, but he forced himself to speak as calmly as possible. "What, and you're perfect, so you're the real victim in all this?"

"My frustration is justified," Wing said stubbornly. "And even if you don't care that you are misusing Shelby's body, I refuse to do the same to Laura."

Otto exasperated Wing at times, he knew. This was different. He knew Wing wanted him to feel bad—to feel guilty. It was an uncharacteristic meanness, and for the first time Otto considered the possibility that it was not his friend Wing but some other being glowering at him from across the room. It hurt too much to consider the other possibility: that these were Wing's truest feelings, and his friendship with Otto was merely a grudging acceptance of evil in his life. 

“Say what you want.” Otto’s heartbeat seemed to unbalance his voice. “No one's making you carry on. But I’m not giving up. It’s sad that you have so easily.”

With that, Otto turned off the light and closed Shelby’s eyes before he could start to cry.

 

Shelby finished brushing Franz’s teeth and wandered back into the bedroom. Nigel lay sprawled on his stomach, one foot hanging off his bed. He was doodling a fern in the corner of his textbook.

“Better watch out,” Shelby remarked. “The monster under your bed’s going to suck on your toes.”

Nigel laughed. “I’d worry more about something living under yours. Franz has been known to forget about food stashed under his bed.”

“Spectacular,” Shelby sighed. “Boys are so gross.”

“Just keep your cooties on that side of the room, Trinity.”

Shelby tucked herself into bed, and stared up at the ceiling. _I exist_ , she repeated to herself. _I exist. I exist. I exist. I exist._

She looked at Nigel. A simple existence. A boy and his body, absorbed in the science he loved. She had lived that way, once.

Nigel noticed her looking. “Something on your mind?”

“Okay, please know I mean this in the least bad way possible.” Shelby flipped onto Franz’s tummy. “But… do you feel left out?”

“Because I didn’t get my consciousness implanted in someone else’s body?” Nigel asked. “No. Not at all.”

“It was a silly question,” Shelby said, reaching for a strand of hair to worry and finding only short bristles. 

She knew that she could be A Lot, so she turned away. She didn’t want to bother him. In their first weeks of school, Laura had found Shelby insufferable—which had been the plan, of course. But even in the years beyond, Shelby knew that her chatterbox tendencies were an acquired taste.

 _I exist_ , she reminded herself again. _I exist_. 

“Actually,” Nigel said suddenly, “I’m quite relieved that I wasn’t there when it happened. I don’t think I could handle being in anyone else’s body. Right now, especially.”

“Yeah?” 

“It can be a daily struggle to find a home in my own body, y’know? I don’t know how I’d cope in someone else’s.”

“That’s fair.” Shelby didn’t mention that she wasn’t sure if she _was_ coping. 

“As for being left out… it scares me a little bit that when you come back, you’ll be different, and I won’t.” He hesitated a moment. “And, in the least bad way possible, I’m a little jealous. You all managed it so effortlessly.”

Shelby looked Nigel in the eyes—they were sad. “Nigel. Hon.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Nigel sighed. “I know.”

Shelby let the silence settle before she found her next words. “I don’t know what it’s like to transition. I know from watching you, though, that the things you do, the binding, the T, all help you be Nigel. This? This is not that.”

“No,” Nigel sighed, but he couldn’t avoid a wry smile. “I guess I’m stuck doing things the old-fashioned way.”

“Hey, you’re the only one who ain’t broke,” Shelby said. “Give your old-fashioned ways some credit.”

Nigel looked at her with sympathy. “You feel broken?”

“No.” Shelby froze. “Maybe. I may never be myself again. Isn’t that broken?”

“I mean... I hope not.”

This did not make Shelby feel better. _I exist_ , she thought again. She rolled over once more and stared at the ceiling.

“Tell me something about your life,” she said, trying to sound light. “The mundane troubles of Nigel Darkdoom.”

Nigel winced. “Uh… I don’t know. One of my plants died today.”

“Oh no.”

“But it was one of fifty, so I’m not really worried about it. The plastic thing on my shoelace fell off and it looks raggedy now. I’m worried that no one’s going to show up to my genetics presentation on Friday.”

Shelby glanced over. “We’re going to be there.”

“But with the cure—”

“Look, Nigel, I don’t make the rules. You’ve got a presentation, so we’ve all got to go. You’re going to have five people cheering you on, whether you like it or not.”

Nigel beamed. “Thanks, Shel.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Later, in the dark, Nigel’s breathing had become deep and even and Shelby approached sleep herself. Then she remembered something very important.

Swinging out of bed, Shelby grabbed her blackbox and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

“H.I.V.E.mind, call Otto,” she said urgently. “Call _me_.”

“One moment,” H.I.V.E.mind said. The blackbox buzzed for a few moments before Shelby’s own face appeared on the screen.

“Franz?” Otto murmured, still groggy.

“No, it’s Shelby. Listen, did you change tampons before you went to bed?”

“What?”

“Otto! Did you take out the tampon before you went to bed?”

“No. I didn’t—Do you have one in right now?”

“Well, yeah! My period started this morning!”

Otto blanched. “Are you sure? I haven’t felt anything.”

Shelby resisted every urge to slam her face into her palm. “You aren’t supposed to feel tampons! Not when they’re in right. You have to take it out right now.”

“Me?” Otto looked stricken. “Can’t you come and do it?”

“I am _not_ going to put Franz’s hands in my vagina,” Shelby hissed, hearing Nigel stir in bed outside. “Listen, all you have to do is pull on the string.”

“Oh my god,” Otto moaned.

In the background, Shelby could hear Laura’s soft voice. “Is something wrong?”

Otto’s next words were inaudible, but she thought she heard Wing utter a Chinese curse in the background.

“Otto, now! If I get back in my body and you’ve killed me of toxic shock syndrome, I’m going to rip the computer out of your brain and throw it in the volcano!”

On the screen, Otto’s landscape wobbled as he walked to the bathroom. He set the blackbox on the counter, so she could only see the ceiling.

“What do you want me to do?” Otto asked morosely.

“Are your pants off?” Shelby asked.

“Yeah.”

“Just reach down. You should feel the string hanging out there.”

“Wait a minute. Wait. Okay I found it.”

“Now pull down.”

Otto was silent for a moment. “I do not like this at all.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Shelby said impatiently. “Is it out?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can wrap it up in toilet paper and throw it away.”

The toilet paper roll squeaked tinnily through the speaker.

“Please don’t tell me I have to put another one of those back in,” Otto said.

“No, because I’d like to live another sixty years or so. There are pads on the shelf behind you. Use one of the overnight ones. They’re green.”

“Found them.”

Shelby heard the sound of ripping plastic and the slide of plastic up her legs, and she resolved to never again look Otto in the face.

“Okay. Okay. I think that’s done,” Otto said, sounding just as embarrassed. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“Yes,” Shelby sighed. “Tomorrow’s my heaviest day, so make sure to pack a few pads for class tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Otto said. “Also I’m never going to talk to you again. Good night.”

Shelby sighed and crept back out into the bedroom.

“Everything okay?” Nigel asked sleepily.

“Just peachy. Does Franz ever wash his sheets?”

“No.”

It was then that Shelby took the liberty of screaming into her pillow.

 

“Did you hear something?” Franz said.

Laura lifted her head from the pillow slightly, straining her ears.

“Maybe. I think it’s gone now, whatever it was.”

Franz chuckled nervously. “Wing has better hearing than I do.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Franz nodded—more solemnly than perhaps he intended—and the room settled back into silence.

Laura and Franz were not bosom buddies, even at the best of times. Friendly? Of course! The friends of Otto Malpense often gravitated toward one another in activities and classes, comfortable in the relative safety of their clique. But intimates they were not. Laura didn’t even know what city Franz grew up in. 

In another body, Laura might have used this opportunity to get to know the boy better. In Otto’s, however, she had allowed the silence. Silent brushing, silent dressing, silent reading before bed. Only once more before they turned out the light did Franz venture to speak.

“I thought I would be less hungry in this body.” He sounded slightly morose.

Laura tried to temper his mood with cheerfulness. “Only eight hours until breakfast!” It sounded false, even to her.

“Yes,” Franz sighed. “But I will not enjoy it. I feel that Wing is very unhappy to have me in his body. I do not want to irritate him further by eating things he disapproves of.”

“He’s just stressed after today’s events,” Laura said. “We all are.”

“If you are saying so.” Franz raised an eyebrow in Laura’s direction. “Good night.”

“Night.”

Laura jammed her eyes shut before the click of the light switch had died in the air. Franz and Wing could sort out their issues later. For now, her only interest was in the tickle she felt in the space around her. Otto’s unusual abilities were hers, now.

Laura plunged toward the little computer at the back of Otto’s head, rapping eagerly at the door. Quickly, freely—as if Otto’s body didn’t recognize it had a new occupant, or instead had been waiting for another consciousness all along—the door opened. 

For a moment, it was black. Then she saw hexagonal white tiles nestled among small black triangles. A tall cabinet with a broken hinge. A washer and drying rack. A line of shoes against the wall.

Laura could hardly believe her eyes. When she reached out to H.I.V.E.’s wireless network, her own laundry room was the last thing she expected to find.

“Mum?” she called, peering into the kitchen, half expecting to see Mrs. Brand peeling carrots over the bin.

“She isn’t here.”

Laura gasped, turning quickly and freezing at the sight of the slender man hanging in the doorway. He looked a little formal for the Brand laundry, wearing a pressed checkered shirt and gray slacks. If it were not for the blue wireframe face sprouting from the collar, Laura might have thought it was her cousin staying over for the weekend. 

“H.I.V.E.mind,” she said. “You scared me.”

“You built this rather quickly,” he commented, his voice even. She followed his gaze, and realized she was standing in her own body. The only difference was that her body now glowed green.

“I thought I’d just take a look around, and see what Otto makes such a fuss about.”

H.I.V.E.mind folded his arms across his chest. “If you were looking for Otto’s interpretation of the network, you will not find it in your own home.” 

“What does it look like when he’s here?” Laura asked .

“Long trains of ones and zeroes, mostly,” H.I.V.E.mind replied.

“Weird,” Laura said, hopping on top of the washer. “I wonder why it’s different for me.”

“You and he are different programmers.” H.I.V.E.mind remained standing in the doorway, and Laura got the sense that he wasn't pleased with her. “Otto sees the world through the lens of information it provides, and so he receives pure information. You analyze systems—you see the world for what it does.”

“Are you telling me that if I fiddle around with this washing machine, I’ll be changing the code for H.I.V.E.’s laundry room?” Laura asked, half joking.

“Yes.” H.I.V.E.mind remained completely serious. He didn't look away from her face, despite the silence of many minutes.

Laura leaned up against the wall. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“I am disappointed in you, Yes.”

“Why? I haven’t even done anything yet!”

Ignoring H.I.V.E.mind’s frown, Laura stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. If she looked out the corner of her eye, she thought she glimpsed the shifting ones and zeroes of Otto’s world. When she looked straight on, she simply saw the eggs, milk, and vegetables she’d expect to find there.

“It isn’t about doing anything. It’s about boundaries.”

“If it will make you happy I’ll leave now,” Laura said. “But I don’t understand all the fuss.”

H.I.V.E.mind’s voice became foggy as the kitchen collapsed into darkness. 

“Otto never did, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for toughing it through the Drama™ and Angst™. I promise next time will be a little more rambunctious!
> 
> (Also, for the record, I wrote Wing to be extremely OOC on purpose. Do not worry! He will return to his wholesome self before the end.)


	5. In Which Otto Does Something Foolish Before Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otto wakes up and decides to make mischief. He is less good at it than planned.

Morning came. Otto laid in Shelby’s bed, contemplating the fact that he was, for the time being, Shelby. It was strange, but his thoughts turned to Mrs. McReedy, the woman who raised him—if such a thing could be appropriately said of anyone.

Greedy, greedy Mrs. McReedy. She was the closest thing Otto had to a mother, and when he had been about ten years old, she decided it was only right that she explain some facts of life with her young charge. 

“Otto,” she said, knocking on his office door. At that time, Otto’s attic retreat wasn’t in perfect order, yet. The walls remained mostly bare. He had only a metal folding chair to sit on. 

“Yes, Mrs. McReedy?” Otto said, with a testy sort of politeness. Otto couldn’t remember what he had been doing. He just didn’t want to talk.

“As your teacher, I believe… Well.” The middle-aged matron blushed deeply. This, at least, sparked Otto’s attention, and he studied her face as she forced out her next words. “As your teacher, I believe it’s important you understand some things.”

“Things?” Otto asked, a practiced innocence honeying his voice.

“Oh,” Mrs. McReedy warbled. “Things like, ahem, procreation.”

Otto sat in silence, watching Mrs. McReedy with an inner eagerness to see how she might steer this conversation.

“You see, Otto, there comes a time in your life when, well, when a man and a woman fall in love. And they wish to be very close to one another, as you can imagine.” Mrs. McReedy worried a button on her blouse. “Or, perhaps not, I’m not sure how much you’ve picked up cooped up in here. And you haven’t been able to watch your natural parents—though they certainly experienced what I’m talking about. Because when a man and a woman wish to be close, they, well, you see, they—”

“Ma’am, I know what sex is,” Otto said flatly. 

Mrs. McReedy seemed even more flustered. “Well there’s more to it than that, of course. Girls start to grow taller than boys, you grow, ah, hairs…”

“Please, miss,” Otto sighed. “I know. I’ve read up on it.  _ The Boy’s Body Book _ and  _ The Care and Keeping Of You _ and so on. I really do understand about menstruation and puberty and so on. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh. Well, good. I just wanted to make sure… Your age-mates are studying up on it in their school. I didn’t want you to be left out.”

Otto forced his voice to be even. “Thank you. I believe I’ll manage.”

Mrs. McReedy had left Otto in blissful solitude after that. There were many things Otto could pick out of that short conversation that made him cringe, but his arrogance stung most in retrospect. At the tender age of ten, he had believed he was fully educated about sexual reproduction and puberty.

But what did he know, really? It was one thing to glance over diagrams and worksheets and entirely another to wake up and feel something warm pooling between one’s legs.  It was the novelty of experience, he decided, swinging up from the bed. To his immense relief, nothing had leaked. He was less worried about giving the sheets a wash and more that, after the previous night’s discussion, Wing would react even more unfavorably when he realized the up-close-and-personal tour of Shelby’s body Otto was receiving. 

Some information was better left unnoticed.

Otto couldn’t tell if Wing was awake or not, but after changing clothes and running a comb through Shelby’s hair, he left his roommate on the bed and went out to greet H.I.v.E. in his new duds.

What could he do in this body? Who might he fool? What might he learn?

Otto spotted the water polo team on the sofas below. Bingo.

“Hey guys,” Otto greeted the team with a winning smile.

Javier, the team captain, smiled back. “We didn’t see you at the game yesterday. Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Otto replied, taking a seat on an armrest and crossing his legs. This was a flirty thing to do, right? “Just got caught up with my friends.”

The goalkeeper, Kweku, said, “Yeah? Any ridiculous schemes this week?”

“Nothing special.” Otto shrugged. “The others want to play it cool right now.”

All seven of the boys laughed as though they had just heard a very funny joke.

“Shel, I’ll always love you for your sense of humor,” Haywood grinned, slapping Hassan on the knee.

“The day that Mad Malpense and his cronies play it cool is the day I ask Colonel Francisco to marry me,” Sergei agreed.

Takehiko seemed to notice something was amiss, and offered Otto a small smile. “Present company excluded, of course. You aren’t as tiresome as the others.”

Tiresome, hm? Otto didn’t quite like the tone the team was taking, and he wondered what types of things Shelby confided in them for his friend group— _ his _ team—to evoke such a negative response. It seemed as though some revenge was in order.

“Well, Henchman stream is starting warmups,” Mikael said. “Coming, Sergei?”

Sergei stood obediently and the boys in blue wandered off to class. Javier, Takehiko, and Hassan all wore the stark white of the technical stream, and they too rose to catch Professor Pike’s pre-breakfast office hours. 

“I’ll see you lot in the dining hall,” Javier said, adjusting his dark gray collar. “I hear it’s pancakes this morning.”

“All hail the carbs,” Otto laughed.

“You have that right,” Haywood said. He was open-faced, American. Likely to trust Shelby because she represented a familiar homeland, likely to respond to small temptations. An easy mess to leave until Shelby’s return. “I have a test with Tennenbaum today. It’s going to suck.”

“Come on, Haywood, you have to keep up the Alpha pride,” Otto said, setting Shelby’s hand on the other boy’s wrist for a moment before drawing back. “You’re too cute to fail.”

Haywood looked startled, and he forced a bewildered smile. “Um, thanks?”

Otto slid down onto the seat next to haywood and peered into his dark brown eyes. He blinked slowly. “Maybe we can meet up afterwards and you can tell me about it.”

“Shelby!” Haywood exclaimed. “What is going on?”

Otto sculpted an expression of perfect ignorance. “What?”

Haywood lowered his voice. “When I told you that I needed distractions from Sergei, this is not what I meant. You’re my friend! Do you think this is some kind of joke?”

Otto had miscalculated. Badly. 

“Oh, God.” His voice was at a similar volume.

“Oh, God, what?” Haywood said expectantly. 

“I’m sorry!” Otto bleated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I mean, I did know. But I didn’t forget. I was being an idiot! I’m such a ditz, you know.”

Haywood narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to breakfast. I think you know what I want to hear the next time we see each other.”

Haywood stood abruptly and marched off to the dining hall, and Otto grimaced. Shelby was actually  _ friends _ with the water polo team? They confided in each other? He thought that she just used water polo as a protosexual stimulant—it was unbelievable that she would actually engage with them on an emotional level!

There was something else, too, a feeling like finding a mildewed washcloth that had been languishing in the shower during an off-island trip, but Otto shoved that washcloth deep down. Shelby was the problem, here.

Otto stood. He’d have to face his friends at some point. Now was as good a time as any to start sifting through the lies and deceit. 

 

Shelby and Nigel greeted Laura and Franz with cheerful smiles at their usual lunch table. 

“How did you sleep?” Shelby asked Laura, who was rubbing Otto’s blue eyes.

“It seems Wing’s snoring is localized in his body, not his soul,” she said. “It was a long night.”

“I have said sorry!” Franz sighed. “It is not being my fault!”

Laura’s eyebrows quirked. “I never said it was.”

Shelby took Laura by the arm—catching more than a few looks from other students, who had not thought of Franz Argentblum and Otto Malpense as close—and dragged her towards the line. “Let’s get you some coffee before you kill anyone, okay?”

Shelby kept her face still as she saw herself (well, Otto) enter the room. She immediately felt self-conscious. Did she always stand with her hands in her pockets like that? Was she always so awkward? Did anyone notice?

Otto saw their group and waved, jogging over to join the others at the table. 

Shelby was rather relieved Otto was never going to speak to her again out of shame, because she wasn’t particularly sure she wanted to speak to herself right now, anyway.

Shelby and Laura breezed through the breakfast line and took a seat at the table.

“Anyone seen Wing?” Shelby asked.

Nigel shook his head. “Otto says that Wing is sulking in your room. So, we might not see much of him today.”

“I wonder what Dr. Nero is going to say about that.” Laura said grimly.

“Think more about what you’re going to say about it,” Franz advised. “After all, he’s going to get credit because I’m there. You’re the one who will be getting the detentions for an unapproved absence.”

Otto’s eyes bugged large and Laura curled his lips downward. “That isn’t how he’s grading us, is he?” She urgently flung open her blackbox to pester H.I.V.E.mind. 

Shelby watched as Otto sat down, then looked away before he could meet her gaze.

“So, are you still doing that thing where you try to impersonate each other the best?” Nigel asked.

“Playing games is foolish and makes light of our dark situation,” Franz said, so seriously that it took a moment for everyone to recognize what he had just done.

“Today is going to be a long day,” Laura sighed. 

“Be chinning up, Otto,” Shelby said. “The more tired you are, the more likely you are to be sleeping through the hurricane Wing.”

 

At eight, it was still dark in Laura and Shelby’s room. Wing had granted himself the opportunity to sit up and stretch, rolling Laura’s muscles and cringing to feel the bones crackle and settle back into place.

The problem with this school, Wing thought to himself, was that Dr. Nero set out to make uncommon criminals when even the uncommon required the participation of the everyday. 

He wished he could go home. He hadn’t felt that way in months, but now it was a certainty. He had to escape the island, had to escape this body. He couldn’t keep living like this.

The door chimed.

Wing didn’t respond.

After a moment, the doors slid open, and a tall figure darkened the doorway before stepping in.

“What are you doing, Wing?” Raven asked, her soft Russian accent utterly familiar. 

He felt compelled to answer. “I can’t live in Laura’s body for her. It’s wrong.”

“Yes,” Raven said simply. “And I’m sorry you have to live through it. But you have to get up. Come with me.”

Wing stared at Raven with Laura’s faded eyes and did something he hadn’t done since he was a child: contradict his teacher. “I don’t want to go to class.”

“We’re not going to class,” Raven said. “We’re getting you help.”


	6. In Which Our Heroes Try to Keep Calm and Carry On

“Tell me, Wing, how does it feel to be in _your_ body?”

 

_Lao stands across me in the sand. My eyes are open, yet the world loses focus as I center myself with the sound of my breathing. It is low, heavy. My toes tingle pleasantly as warm grains of sand settle into the webbing of my toes. I evaluate the weight of my arms, the tension in my legs, the tickle of my hair against the small of my back._

_Lao moves first, and I am ready to strike._

_Later, after I have gotten sand in my hair and a tear in my training uniform, I sit on the wobbly chair at the kitchen table. I can feel the blood pulsing through my backside, smarting with every pulse of my heart._

_I press an ice pack to my foot under Lao’s eye. The pain is dull and muddy, but it piques back into sharpness under the compress’s pressure for just a moment. Then it dulls again._

_My mother walks into the kitchen and holds her face very still. She takes my shoulder and squeezes before rushing out the door for work._

 

Dr. Graden sipped her tea as she listened, a manila folder bent back on her knee. Wing had imagined there would be a couch. A memory he wasn’t sure was entirely his surfaced—Otto, reminding everyone that while Freudian psychotherapy dominated frequent representations of therapy, it was far from the norm. 

Raven had left him here. He didn’t quite know what that meant. 

“How does it feel to be in your _body_?”

 

_We are having our lunch break, but I don’t stop to pick up my meal. Something in my stomach trembles, a small rabbit shivering with anticipation, glittering with sweat and gems of uncertainty._

_My toes protest as my trainers skid across the pavement. A thin layer of condensation forms on my eyelids. My hair radiates heat in the sunlight._

_The metal gate singes my fingertips as I slip into the school’s garden. I don’t care. We are alone._

_Sticky, wet lips. Long fingers at my hips, up my back, brushing a patch of skin behind my ear. Husky breaths. The rabbit leaps inside me—I fear it will spring out of my mouth for joy._

_We embrace. My chin on a soft head with black hair that tickles. I am at home, as much as I am somewhere new. We will be together until my mother’s death, but that surety will not weigh me down for months yet._

 

“What is it like to _be_ in your body?”

 

_Outside, it is windy._

_Inside, it is still, except for the fire crackling in the emptiness._

_My father is gone. Lao finally left to get groceries. His sorrowful eyes tried to pull me out of the house with him. Instead I anchored myself under a blanket._

_Outside, I am controlled._

_Inside, I can’t tell._

_My hair hangs long and loose, tangling with the blankets. A pimple is growing on my forehead. I do not touch it, but I know it is there, and my fingers itch even as they cling to the hand-knitted coverlet. My chest hurts for no reason. My knees hurt for no reason. My toes hurt for no reason._

_Is my face wet? It doesn’t matter._

_My mother has been dead for nine days. My body doesn’t need sleep, but my soul is bone weary, bled dry of even the desire to look another person in the eyes._

_I am still staring out the window when Lao gets home_. 

 

Wing was not under the impression that remembering his body would lessen his repulsion at looking through Laura’s eyes. Indeed, from where he sat, there was very little that could be done to repair the most intense violation he was capable of experiencing. Dr. Graden—though she had a handful of diplomas and certificates hanging on her wall—could, in no way, assist him.

“Do you think you died?” Dr. Graden asked, almost absent-mindedly.

Wing frowned. “I’m sorry?”

Dr. Graden shrugged her shoulders and crossed her knees. “I notice that your memories of your body follow the timeline of your mother’s death.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” Wing said crossly, rather wishing he hadn’t been so voluntary with his associations. 

“Your life in your body was irrevocably changed by your mother’s death,” Dr. Graden said evenly, “to the point that you describe mourning her like a death for your soul.”

“But I did not literally die.”

“No. But then, what is death? Isn’t the death of the soul literal enough?”

“Is this your way of asking if I think I died when my consciousness was transferred into Laura’s body?”

“Yes.”

Wing paused. On the one hand, it sounded ludicrous. He regretted, somewhat, that he was already self-censoring his thoughts to make them palatable to Otto and his opinion on souls. This didn’t seem scientific. If it wasn’t truthful, then it would only be right to resist. 

But then, truth was not always scientific. If this idea—a metaphor, at worst—helped him, couldn’t he consider it? Even as he adamant that this was a miserable situation, an ember remained alive under the ashes of his despair, and that ember did not want to be miserable anymore.

“I might be in mourning,” Wing admitted at last.

“And you have every right to mourn,” Dr. Graden said. “I just wonder, if you’ve survived your own death once, isn’t it possible that you’ll be able to do it again?”

 

Ms. Leon flicked her tail lazily as Nigel, Franz, Otto, Laura, and Shelby filed into class. Shelby slid into her usual center seat, two rows back.

“Yo,” a fellow student said. “Don’t you think Shelby’s going to want her usual seat?”

Shelby stared at him blankly for a moment, then said, “She can be dealing with it, buster!” Now, more than before, could she hear how her hard Rs and west coast warmth maligned Franz’s accent. Inside, she groaned, but she didn’t dare do what she really wanted, which was slam Franz’s head into the desk and curse.

Otto, quirking Shelby’s eyebrows with his own flair, took his own usual seat. Wing’s was conspicuously empty. Shelby tried not to worry about that. 

This was going to be a long class.

“Today we will have a practical pop quiz to test your evasion abilities,” Ms. Leon announced. “You will, in pairs, navigate the labyrinth in the dark, attempting to avoid other teams as much as possible. The goal is to reach the other end as unmarked as possible.”

Normally, Shelby would attempt to make eye contact with either Laura or Wing as quickly as possible. Today there seemed little point.

“Your pairs are on the board,” Ms. Leon said. “Please remember who your partner is and follow me to the labyrinth entrance.”

Shelby forced herself to look for Franz’s name—and funnily enough, Franz was to be her partner, under the guise of Wing.

Franz and Shelby fell into step as they walked down the hall. 

“Don’t worry,” Franz told Shelby in an eager whisper, his German accent still somewhat strong. “With Wing’s body on our team, we cannot fail!”

“I like to think that my skill will play into it as well,” Shelby replied.

Franz waved a dismissive hand. “Please, Shelby, there is no need to spare my feelings. I know from experience that you will be the weak link.”

Shelby sighed. Franz was sweet and good-humored, but he could also get overexcited. Wasn’t it ironic, she thought, that to all appearances, she was being talked over by Wing Fanchu?

She missed him. 

“If each pair will take an entrance to the labyrinth,” Ms. Leon’s synthesized voice echoed, “We can begin. Please pick up your chalk dusters.”

Shelby and Franz took an empty door, and each pulled a lime green chalk duster from their pots. 

“So much for high-tech villain school,” Shelby sighed. 

Franz didn’t hear her. “Hm?” 

Shelby ignored him.

In practice, a chalk duster was a stick with a sock full of colored chalk at the end of it. In fairness, it was a very well-designed sock, and no colored powder sifted from the fabric except when thwacked against someone quite intentionally. The colors showed up rather brilliantly against the Alpha’s black uniforms. 

 Still, Shelby thought, the white doors to the labyrinth opening in front of her, it didn’t make up for the sensation of being shot at in the dark on the streets of Atlantic City.

“Listen,” Shelby said, “Hold your stick like this. Use the outer edges of your feet when you walk. Hold my hand. If I tap your wrist three times, it means follow my lead.”

“You worry too much,” Franz said.

“No one has said that about me, ever,” Shelby replied, taking Wing’s familiar hand into her own—well, Franz's—and walking forward into the blackness.

The Labyrinth’s layout hadn’t changed for two months now, which made Shelby both suspicious and perplexed. Nonetheless, that made walking in the dark the easiest part of this exercise.

Around them, sixteen other teenagers careened through the darkness, chalk dusters raised for combat. The scuffle ricocheted through the long tunnels. 

Somewhere, Shelby heard her own voice cry out in pain.

 _I should have retired when I had the chance_ , she sighed.

In the minutes that followed, by Shelby’s count, Franz got hit by other students twice. Between the two of them, they swiped about seven others. It was routine, at this point. Shelby would catch a panting breath, a stubbing toe, she would swing, Franz would follow, there would be a curse, a return blow—easily blocked—and a swift escape. 

Shelby tapped Franz’s wrist as they neared their exist, glowing the same green as their chalk dusters. Shelby pressed the button and they walked, blinking, back out into the light.

“Good time, Mr. Argentblum, Mr. Fanchu,” Ms. Leon padded towards them. “Let H.I.V.E.mind analyze your marks, please.”

Shelby raised Franz’s arms and allowed the blue light to wash over her.

“Franz Argentblum, you have zero marks,” H.I.V.E.mind informed her with a smile.

Franz followed suit. “Wing Fanchu, you have three marks.”

Shelby turned around to see the other students who had left the labyrinth. There, sitting next to a dejected-looking Nigel Darkdoom, was her own sad sack of a body, sporting shades of pink, orange, yellow, blue, and purple. There was even a green stripe that looked familiar.

“Oh my god,” Shelby said, a flicker of anger sparking in her chest. “Oh my god. I’m going to _kill him._ ”

“Hold your fire, Shel,” Franz said, grabbing Shelby. “You can’t beat yourself up in front of the class.”

“He’s going to ruin all my street cred,” Shelby moaned. “I am going to turn him into a red spray of mist. God!”

“Otto cannot help it if he is clumsy and ungainly,” Franz said reassuringly. “He is just a fool that way.”

Shelby found she was much less cross with Franz after that. 

 

“Progress report, professor,” Dr. Nero hardly glanced at the webcam on his computer screen as he worked. 

“Good progress, sir,” Professor Pike said. “I’ve cleaned out most of the machine’s inner workings and recalibrated the sensors. I’ll begin preliminary testing soon.”

Nero nodded. “Has the timeline changed at all?”

“Not much,” Professor Pike replied. “I still believe it will be fixed sometime tomorrow.”

“I need it fixed by tomorrow morning,” Nero replied. 

Professor Pike’s lips became a thin line. “What changed?” 

Nero looked somewhat guilty. “Heinrich Argentblum called. He has insisted that he have an hour alone with his son, in person, tomorrow afternoon in Bangkok.”

“Can’t you delay him?” Pike frowned.

“I did delay him,” Nero sighed. “He wanted me to send Franz to Bangkok _today_. It’s something he isn’t willing to fight over—he threatened to remove his services as a financier for the school if we did not comply.”

Professor Pike frowned deeply. “We can’t afford that,” he said. “With so many other legacy students leaving—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Nero groaned. “At any rate, there’s no chance Miss Trinity, for all her charms, will fool Argentblum for more than five seconds.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Professor Pike said. “I’ll make it work.”

“Thank you, Will,” Nero said, shutting off his webcam. He massaged his temples. He was glad that Pike thought it was possible, at least. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but think of Ms. Leon’s futile situation, and he wondered very much if, in a week, he would still have a school in which to teach.

 

“Laura, I need your help.” Shelby caught up with her best friend as they walked to Intermediate Global Finance. “I want to humiliate Otto.”

Laura surveyed Shelby up and down. “And you have an idea in the works, I suppose?”

“Well, Franz just told me that he and Otto are supposed to present on the financial crisis in 2008 today. He shared the powerpoint with me.”

“Ach, but we don’t know anything about that,” Laura said.

Shelby grinned. “Exactly.”

Further down the hall, a short, red-haired girl tiptoed into the swarm of students switching classes.

“Hey, it’s your alter-ego!” Shelby said. Both Laura and Shelby scurried to meet up with their friend. Shelby had no hesitation as she threw her arms around Laura’s body, Wing’s psyche—either of them were welcome to her hugs any day of the week.

“How did it go this morning?” Laura asked. “We heard you were feeling down.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Laura’s face had black circles under the eyes, her eyes lacking any spark. “I confess, this is something I am profoundly uncomfortable with.”

“Don’t worry about it, Big Guy,” Shelby said, linking Franz’s arm in Laura’s. (Would this get the H.I.V.E. rumor mill churning? She hoped so.)

“You’re just in time to watch your two favorite friends make big fools of Otto and Franz in front of Ms. Tennenbaum,” Laura said brightly.

“Don’t worry, they deserve it,” Shelby said conspiratorially.

Wing allowed himself, for the first time since the switch had happened, the smallest of smiles. “I have no doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and sticking with me! Writing around work has been a bit of a struggle, but I'll try to update sooner next time.


	7. In Which We Sing About Economics

Ms. Tennenbaum settled herself at a desk with her notes, and looked up to her students at the board. Otto Malpense and Franz Argentblum both stood at the front of class with brilliant grins on their faces—suspiciously mischievous grins, Ms. Tennenbaum felt, but she hadn’t had enough coffee to bother about it now.

“Go ahead,” Ms. Tennenbaum said.

Otto stepped forward. “What more can be said about the financial crisis of 2007 and 2008? Is there anything truly original to add to the analyses of the world’s greatest financial minds? Franz and I believe we can: today in our presentation, I intend not only to open your minds to the truth of what happened during our freshman year, but Franz will further bring you to enlightenment through the power of song and interpretive dance.”

“He will?” Wing shouted from the back of the class, in a voice rather more shrill than normal.

“He will!” Franz sang back, holding the second word for a good three or four seconds. 

Ms. Tennenbaum tapped her notepad. “By all means, continue.” This would be a story for the teacher’s lounge, if nothing else. 

Otto stepped forward, clicking to the next slide. “This is a picture of Lehman Brothers investment bank,” he said.

“Lehman brothers,” Franz harmonized.

Otto continued, “They had some troubles during this time. And now you know.”

Shelby Trinity, shockingly, spoke up from next to Wing. “Could you mention that it fell through September 15, 2008 and was a significant milestone during the crisis?”

Franz raised his arms above his head and sang, “No audience participation!”

Otto clicked the next slide, which had three sentences in a large font. Some students started taking notes. “I don’t feel like doing this slide,” he said. He switched to the following slide, which featured a graph.

“And now it is time for Franz to sing a three-part operetta about subprime loans.”

Franz cleared his throat. “Where did you come from, where did you go, where did you come from, subprime loans?”

At this point, the students, who had managed to take this all with somewhat straight faces, could not hold it in anymore. Nigel Darkdoom giggled, and the dam broke. A few students even joined in for the last chorus. 

Franz turned the tables, however, with part two of his opera, which was to the tune of “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.” Frankly, Ms. Tennenbaum was shocked that Franz knew what  _ Les Mis _ was, but she dared not interrupt lest this madness end.

“Oh my friends, my friends, don’t ask me what subprime lending is for!” Franz thrust his pelvis and kicked his feet in the air, before spinning. “It’s predatory lending—now I’ll pay my mortgage no more!”

This mood, of course, was once again blasted to pieces when, together, Otto and Franz began the stamps and claps that every high school teacher knows to fear. 

In a voice that did not sound anything like Freddie Mercury, and did not add any verses, Franz led them through rounds of “Sub-prime, sub-prime lending!” (Stomp, stomp, clap; stomp, stomp, clap) “Sub-prime, sub-prime lending!” for a good four and a half minutes.

Finally, with the grace of a maestro, Otto led the class back to silence. “We would be remiss if we ended this presentation without mentioning the subsequent banking crisis or the Great Recession. Now that we have, I will thank you all for your excellent attention and time. We will not accept questions today.”

Shelby raised her hand anyway. 

“Ms. Trinity?” Ms. Tennenbaum called. 

“For anyone looking to get notes or, um, grade the presentation, I’m just throwing it out there that this presentation is already uploaded to our classroom files.”

“Thank you, Shelby,” Otto said loudly. 

Ms. Tennenbaum opened her mouth, as if to continue class. She closed it, then opened it again. “Yes, thank you Ms. Trinity. I will have you all look at the presentation tonight and come back to class with questions. In the meantime, you all can go to dinner. Class dismissed.”

Quietly, to Nigel, Ms. Tennenbaum heard Wing say, “Well, at least we’re getting something out of this terrible day.”

 

In his office, Dr. Nero set aside the flight plan for Franz Argentblum’s departure to Bangkok. Rain or shine, he’d leave at 3pm, and God help them all if those plans went awry. It was unusual for parents to demand to speak to their children, though not unheard of. 

It made Nero nervous to think that Heinrich Argentblum was desperate enough to throw away his entire relationship with the school for this single meeting with his son. 

“I brought you some dinner,” Raven knocked at the door, holding a plate wrapped in foil. 

“What time is it?” Nero pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Only seven,” Raven said. “But even headmasters need to eat.”

Nero gratefully accepted the fare set before him—quiche and sausage—and said nothing as Raven kicked up her feet on his desk.

“I checked on Professor Pike a little while ago. The students should plan to join him first thing tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s some good news at least,” Nero sighed.

“What happened?” Raven frowned.

“Nothing new. Mostly. For some reason the freezers opened by themselves last night and a great deal of food was spoiled. It’s nothing, and yet on top of all this—”

“You’ve been reading the budget cut reports today,” Raven surmised, looking over his desk.

“I know that this body-swapping incident was an accident,” Nero grumbled. “And yet I keep thinking about how  _ expensive _ it’s turning out to be.”

Raven offered him a thin smile. “We never have small problems, do we, Max?”

Nero ran a hand through his hair, unable to hide a real smile. “I hate it when you say that.”

 

Otto looked up as the doors to Laura and Shelby’s cell hissed open. 

“Wing,” Otto split Shelby’s face into an uncharacteristically crooked grin. “We haven’t had a chance to talk all day.”

Wing settled onto Laura’s bed, facing his friend. “My session with Dr. Graden occupied most of my morning,” he replied. “And I didn’t see you after Ms. Tennenbaum’s class.” 

Otto shrugged. “I also talked to Dr. Graden. And Shelby, Laura, and I had a, ah, talk.”

Wing lifted a red eyebrow. “How did that go?”

“I’m considering making Shelby my nemesis enemy, so that I can make her pay for this for the rest of her life.”

Wing shook Laura’s head, a curl of short hair falling over tired eyes. “Be careful what you wish for, my friend."

“I know,” Otto sighed. “Though it will take a while for me to forgive them.”

“Really?” Wing asked. “Those were some of the best songs about subprime lending I’ve ever heard.”

“Shut up,” Otto laughed. “They’re going to gloat about it for the rest of term. Anyway, I wanted to ask about you and Dr. Graden. She said some helpful things to me. Are you holding up okay?”

“Against all odds, Dr. Graden’s advice helped me, somewhat,” Wing said, and Otto rolled Shelby’s eyes a little bit. “I wasn’t sure it would! We just talked about my life—my mother’s death and my first boyfriend.”

Wing had waited months to build trust with Otto before he shared those types of things with his own best friend. Otto elected not to mention that, saying only, “That’s big of you, man.”

“Is it weird that it feels big?” Wing said. “I would even consider going back to talk to her, and I’m not sure I would make the same choice had this fiasco never happened.”

Otto nodded. “I saw her a lot after the, um, animus thing. I mean, you know that. But like—the point is that sometimes stressful situations lead us to make different decisions. And that’s okay.”

“I also need to say, Otto,” Wing said. “I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I—I suppose I was frustrated that you seemed unaffected by something that hurt me so much. I responded by trying to hurt you instead of explaining my side of things.”

“Apology accepted,” Otto said. “I’m glad you got the help you needed.”

“Me too,” Wing said. 

“Maybe I should start giving everyone advice,” Otto reflected. “I could tell Laura how to survive being me, for example. And Block and Tackle could benefit endlessly from my advice!”

“Is Auntie Shelby rubbing off on you?” Wing teased, but his voice was kind. “When did you get so wise?”

“Oh, you know,” Otto grinned. “It just comes with the territory.”


	8. In Which It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better (But It Does Get Better)

“Did you hear?” Franz said, buttoning up his pajamas. “Professor Pike fixed the machine. We’ll be back in our own bodies tomorrow morning.”

“About time,” Laura said. “Not that I don’t enjoy being in Otto’s body.” 

Franz gave Laura a long look, and she blushed. “Not like that!”

“I am going to go to bed,” Franz said. “And because you are my friend, I will only tell Shelby that you said that.”

Laura groaned, throwing the covers over Otto’s spiky hair. 

Even so, she didn’t dwell on Franz’s words—this was her last night in Otto’s body, the last night where she’d have a chance to dig through H.I.V.E.'s source code a little bit. Call it a hacker’s privilege. 

H.I.V.E.mind had known the moment she entered, last time. Laura only wanted a few minutes alone, a delay. She wasn’t sure it would work, but she closed her eyes anyway. She pictured herself standing outside her own home after midnight, the light in her parents’ room dark. She always left her own window unlatched on nights like these. As Laura imagined pushing herself up the tree outside the window, she tapped into the little computer at the back of Otto’s mind. 

 

When she opened her eyes, she was in the mainframe. She stood in a representation of her own bedroom—did it represent the cell she shared with Shelby, she wondered, or would every bedroom in the school be affected if she changed something? 

She didn’t have time to find out. She wasn’t interested in the day-to-day running of H.I.V.E. and its facilities. (Where was the hydroponics lab?, she wondered.) Instead, she left her room, walking downstairs to the window seat where she always left her laptop before school. She took a seat, pulling the computer onto her lap. 

How did one code when one was a part of the computer itself?

Laura flipped open the screen, and tried to read the code. She blinked once, Twice. It was blurry—letters switching, as though she were in a dream.

That was annoying. Laura slammed the laptop shut, standing. There had to be something else to do—maybe she would find the controls to that hydroponics lab after all. 

The house blurred in front of her. She blinked once, twice. The photos on the wall disintegrated into little blue ones and zeroes, revealing nothing but blackness behind. Laura tried to stand. She needed to get to the front door, walk out of the house before it all fell apart. 

But there was no house. 

She levitated in the blackness, houseplants and rocking chairs dissolving to their most basic binary selves, leaving Laura alone. 

 _I’m a systems analyst_ , she told herself. _I can figure out how to leave_. 

Yet, even as she looked at the numbers that flew by, she knew something was not quite right. She knew these numbers and what they did. Why couldn’t her brain find the words? She saw a picture of a light switch, then felt an increase in temperature. Water seemed to run between her toes. Something sharp pierced her side.

“H.I.V.E.mind!” she shouted, not entirely sure if she was making noise or just imagining it. “H.I.V.E.mind, I need help! H.I.V.E.mind!”

“Laura,” someone replied. _Laura_ …

 

Franz didn’t know something was wrong until the medics stormed through the doors, seizing Otto’s body and strapping it to a gurney.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s having a seizure. H.I.V.E.mind reported there was a problem.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Franz asked. 

“Go back to sleep,” the medic advised. “You can talk to him in the morning.”

The doors hissed closed, leaving Franz in a sudden quiet. He took a breath, then another.

“H.I.V.E.mind,” he said. “What happened to her?”

“I can’t tell you,” H.I.V.E.mind replied sadly. “It’s against my programming to share medical details about other students."

Franz could barely contain his panic. What if Laura died in Otto’s body? If he had woken up a few minutes sooner, could he have caught it and called for help sooner? What would happen when the professor tried to swap everyone’s bodies? Would Otto be forced to live out the rest of his days inside Laura?

This was terrible. 

And he didn’t know how to tell Otto alone. 

Pulling on a bathrobe, Franz slid out of Otto and WIng’s cell and tiptoed across the hall to one he knew very well—his own. He walked in without knocking. 

“Wake up,” he said. 

“Wing?” Nigel moaned. “I mean, who are you—Franz? It’s one in the morning.”

“They just took away Otto’s body because he was having a medical emergency,” Franz replied.

Shelby was up, now, too.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Franz said. “Wing is a heavier sleeper than I am, I guess. I said good night to Laura like normal, and then just a few minutes ago people came into the room and took them away. They said that it was a seizure. And now I don’t know how to tell Otto that he might not get to be in his own body anymore!”

“You think she’s gonna _die_?” Nigel asked.

The door chimed, opening to reveal Otto and Wing, rubbing their eyes. 

“Who’s gonna die?” Otto asked.

Wing looked around, face becoming grim. “Where’s Laura?”

“Oh, Otto’s it’s terrible!” Franz said. “Laura started having a seizure, and they took her away! H.I.V.E.mind can’t tell us anything!”

“Now just hang on a minute,” Shelby said, her face serious. “I know Laura, and I know Otto, and they share the same kind of dumbass. Otto, didn’t you get nosebleeds and headaches whenever you took extracurricular trips into H.I.V.E.’s network?”

“Yes,” Otto said, already feeling relieved at her point.

“Laura would do the exact same thing in your shoes,” Shelby replied. “And now that she is in your shoes, that’s what she did. Who knows what’s happening to our brains right now? We aren’t built to swap consciousness, and having a sci-fi robot brain doesn’t make it any better.”

“So you don’t think it will have lasting effects?” Franz asked.

“Hey, I’m not a doctor,” Shelby replied. “I’m just saying that I’m going to go back to bed. If she dies, at least we know why.”

“Your bedside manner is incredible, Shel,” Nigel sighed. “Did you ever consider going into nursing?”

Shelby did not reply, already asleep.

 

“Don’t say it,” Nero massaged his temples. 

“I wasn’t going to!” Raven protested.

“At least we can be grateful that Franz had the good grace to get stuck in a perfectly ordinary body,” Nero sighed. “If it was him in that hospital bed instead of Ms. Brand, I don’t know what I’d do.”

They looked again at Otto’s face, as they had many times over the last few years. He was pale, but, all things considered, in far better shape than the last few times he’d ended up in the infirmary. At any rate, the doctors predicted that there wouldn’t be a problem if they continued with the consciousness-transfer scheduled for later that morning. 

“According to H.I.V.E.mind, the boys have been up waiting for us to come get them since it happened,” Raven said. “Should we put them out of their misery?”

“Only because it will also put me out of mine.”

Professor Pike tapped at the door. “Everything’s ready to go,” he informed them. He paused to look down at his two favorite students (in one way or another). “We never have small problems, do we, Max?”

Nero’s face contorted violently with pain and something akin to rage. 

“What?” Pike asked, following Nero as he walked briskly down the hall. “What did I say?”

 

Laura blinked once, twice. The world became clearer. She took a breath and felt the air in her lungs again. She was alive.

“Good morning, asshole,” Shelby said, wearing the face of a perfectly angelic Franz. “You gave everyone quite a scare last night.”

“Oops,” Laura said.

“When you get called down to Dr. Nero’s office later, you just try pulling that one on him,” Shelby smiled. “It’ll soften him right up.”

“Is Otto mad?” Laura asked, her voice quiet.

“I mean,” Shelby replied. “He’s not happy. There’s probably an apology in your future. From you, to him, if that wasn’t clear.”

“No, you’re right,” Laura said. “I should have asked.”

“I understand why you did it,” Shelby said. “If that makes you feel any better. You had the chance to explore the thing you of through completely fresh eyes—eyes that can see more than you ever will. I guess I want you to know that I’m not mad at you, if that helps.”

“Let me see how the others act first,” Laura said. “I might need the shoulder later, after it’s all over with.”

“Well, we can stay here as long as we like, until you’re ready,” Shelby said. “Provided that it takes two hours or less, because Dr. Nero only excused us from two classes and also Franz needs his body back to go on a trip.”

Laura sat up, the slight headache pulsing into something stronger. “I don’t suppose they left you with an aspirin?” 

“Oh yeah, they left like five different drugs they want you to eat,” Shelby said. “But you took a long time to wake up, and I got bored.”

“Shel!”

“Kidding!” Shelby passed over a small cup containing five white pills. “Let me get you some water.”

 

Rather than replicate the events that took place in the storage room, Professor Pike had set up his apparatus in a proper lab. Shelby and Laura peeked their heads into the observation room, from which the professor would be controlling the machine. Nero and Raven, it seemed, would be observing.

“Ladies,” Nero said, gesturing to the open door.

They walked through. 

“There they are!” Professor Pike said, clapping his hands at the sight of Laura and Shelby. “Come, come. I don’t know how long it will take you all to recover, and Mr. Argentblum and his body have an appointment to keep.”

The boys had seated themselves already: Franz and Wing seated directly next to one another, and Otto seated between two empty chairs.

“We’re trying to put everyone next to their own body, and make this jump as simple as possible,” Pike said. “Laura, if you will sit between Wing and Otto, and Ms. Trinity, if you will take the other seat.”

Laura took her place next to Otto, meeting his eyes awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You can tell me about it later,” Otto replied.

Professor Pike slid his goggles over his face, and went to the door.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Pike said. “The machine will take care of it all. Just sit tight. Also, it shouldn’t hurt, but if it does, try not to scream; they’re taking a test in the classroom next door.”

With that, Professor Pike slammed the door shut. 

“Well, now I’m not anxious at all,” Shelby said. 

Laura saw the three shadows move through the glass, but she heard nothing to indicate it was beginning. Her gaze bounced from the burns on the walls to the cobwebs in the corners to the pockmarked door. 

“Laura,” Wing said, and she looked into her own eyes. “It will be okay.”

“Easy for you to say,” she whispered.

“It isn’t, though,” Wing replied.

She was still looking into her own face when it happened. 

_ZAP!_

Ten arcs of electricity erupted from the machine, linking each student to the next person in the circle. Laura couldn’t remember if it had hurt last time, but this time, it didn’t. For a moment, she fell unconscious—or was it simply all black when one’s consciousness had no body to interpret the world?—and seconds later, she found she was no longer staring into her own face, but into Otto’s.

“Hi,” she said quietly, her own voice rolling as sweetly as strawberry jam.

“Hi,” Otto replied.

Nero opened the observation door. “Well? Are you back?”

Shelby, eyes apparently jammed shut for the ride, clapped her hands on her chest. “These are mine!” she announced happily. 

Otto looked around the room, then announced to Nero, “I think we’re all sorted out, thanks.”

Nero sighed with relief. “Thank goodness. Mr. Argentblum, if you’d like to freshen up before your journey.”

“I left a sugar scrub and a different kind of shampoo in your shower,” Shelby interrupted. “Use them. You will thank me.”

“And for the rest of you,” Nero said sternly. “You have about an hour to re-acquaint yourselves with your own affairs before I expect to see you in class again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” The students chorused, standing and rushing towards the door. 

Shelby took Wing’s hand as they left. “Everything’s back to normal.”

“As normal as they ever are,” Wing agreed. 

Nero and Raven watched with pleased smiles on their faces as the children joined the streams of students coursing through the halls.

“Do you want to call for her?” Nero asked, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“Let me run a few more tests,” Professor Pike said. “But I’m close.”


	9. In Which We Wrap It Up

“So, who wins the bet?” Otto asked, swinging into a seat near the front. 

“The bet?” Shelby asked.

“You know,” Otto said. “The bet you suggested to see who could attract the least amount of attention while in another person’s body.”

Laura snorted and exchanged looks with Shelby. “Guess we lose.”

Shelby shrugged. “Worth it.”

“You lose, too, Otto,” Wing said. “Everyone knew that something was wrong when you performed so badly during Stealth and Evasion. Not to mention those things you said to the water polo team!”

“What did you say to the water polo team?” Shelby asked suspiciously. “What did you say to Haywood?”

“You owe him an apology,” Otto said. Quickly changing the subject, he looked at Wing. “Besides, you can’t win—you had to get dragged out of bed by Raven! I’ve heard a lot of rumors about that.”

“Franz is going to be insufferable when he gets back,” Laura sighed. 

“Shush!” Shelby hissed. “He’s starting.”

Nigel offered his friends a small smile as he stepped to the front of the classroom.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said. “Who can tell me the difference between an allopolyploid and an amphipolyploid?”

Otto raised his hand. All his friends rolled their eyes. 

“What?” he protested. “I can!”

 

“Ouch!” Nero spat, a thin red line appearing on his finger. In his arms he carried a hefty stack of manila folders, which he attempted to sift through while walking.

“I told you, use the aloe lotion,” Raven said. “It will help.”

“I have been using it,” Nero said sourly. 

“Then why did you get a paper cut?” Raven asked, pulling a bandaid from one of the pockets in her jumpsuit and passing it to him. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

“The budget for staff team-building exercises in 1987,” Nero said miserably. “H.I.V.E.mind can’t find it anywhere.”

“Why do you need it?” Raven asked, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. And I’m not just saying I don’t care. I really think that doesn’t matter.”

“I think Henrich Argentblum is going to have someone audit H.I.V.E.’s finances,” Nero said. “Everything needs to be in order.”

Raven surveyed the atrium in front of her. “We run a tight ship here, Max. It’s going to be fine.”

She stopped, watching Professor Pike walk alongside Ms. Leon in the direction of the science hallway. Apparently, it was time. 

“What do you think would have happened if we were there?” Raven asked. Nero squinted in confusion until he saw where she was looking. 

“If you’re asking what I would do if I was stuck in Otto Malpense’s body, then don’t bother,” Nero said. “I would literally lose my mind.”

“No,” Raven said. “I just mean… do you think, after all this time, that we still have souls for that machine to pull from our bodies?”

Nero allowed the solemn silence for a few moments. “Probably not,” he quipped.

“Max!”

“You asked.”

“What do you think is going to happen to Tabitha?”

“I think she’s a brave woman,” Nero said. “And she will remain one, whether this experiment works or not.”

He began walking, and Raven kept pace with him. “So you’re saying that if I was as clumsy as the Trinity girl and I short-circuited a machine that transfers consciousness, nothing would happen to us?”

“No,” Nero replied. “And you should be glad—it’s cheaper that way.”

“Would you calm down?” Raven laughed. “Heinrich Argentblum is not going to put us out of business.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Nero shifted the papers in his arms and winced as another sheet sliced through his skin. Raven peered at him with a knowing glance. 

“So I haven’t been using the aloe lotion! Sue me.”

Raven pulled the files from his arms. “Let’s put these away.”

“We never have small problems, Natalya,” Nero sighed.

Raven smiled. “Maybe we do, and this is one. Come on. Let’s go see how Tabitha is doing.”

Nero rolled his shoulders and took a breath before looking at Raven’s face. Wearily, he returned her smile. “If you insist.”

 

Shelby dangled her legs from the balcony of her hallway.  _ I exist _ , she reminded herself again, but even at home in her own body, it was more of a question than a statement. 

“Everything okay?” Otto asked, coming up behind her. 

Shelby looked up in surprise. “Um, yeah, I guess. Just post-consciousness-transfer blues, I guess. What’s up with you?”

“Everyone’s just gotten through all their apologies to me,” Otto said, “and it occurred to me that I actually owe an apology to you.”

“Me?”

“The other morning I confronted the water polo team with all the flirtatiousness I had in me,” Otto said. “I thought that’s what you would do.”

Shelby smirked. “Yeah, I heard that didn’t go down well.”

“It didn’t,” Otto said. “And I’m sorry that I treated you like you were shallow.”

Shelby winked at him. “Well, I can hardly blame you. It’s fun to be a little shallow sometimes.”

Otto looked like she had struck him. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“No,” Otto said. “Nothing. But that thought had run through my head. being a girl was really fun, in general. Both the parts where I got to be really smart, and really shallow.”

“Not as smart as me, though.”

“Not as shallow, either.”

Shelby elbowed Otto in the ribs. “If what you’re saying is that you liked being me,” Shelby said, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Otto stood up. “Maybe I’m saying that gender is kind of pointless when you’re a clone with a computer in their brain, and it was fun to try something new.”

Otto offered a hand up, which Shelby accepted, linking elbows before they set off down the hall. 

“But admit it,” Shelby said. “The Shelby is irresistible.”

“Wing thinks so,” Otto commented. Shelby frowned, but Otto’s smile held no malice. Shelby didn’t know what to make of that, but she softened her expression.

“That was a terrible apology,” Otto said. “I guess what I really meant was—”

“Otto,” Shelby said. “It’s okay. We’re good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient and staying along for the ride, y'all! :)


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